If You Ask
by ADryMartini
Summary: Confrontations — if that's what you could call them — were never easy.


_Author's Notes:_ Written for the Phoenix Wright Kink Meme. The prompt asked for Trucy forgetting to write an essay after spending all her time helping Apollo with a case. Recently, I've been in Trucy's shoes and fallen behind in an essay for school, so the prompt spoke to me.

* * *

Phoenix frowned as he clicked the red button on his cell phone.

This was the third time this had happened in the past two weeks. He took a moment to run his fingers along the plastic buttons, lost in thought, and then punched in a familiar number.

He wasn't aware that he was tapping his fingers on the table as the dial-tone thrummed through the phone's small speaker. Then a click on the line, and within seconds the low baritone voice of Miles Edgeworth met his ear.

"Wright."

"Hey, Miles," Phoenix answered. He breathed out a sigh. "Miles, uh, I'm getting worried about Trucy," he began. "I just got a call from her teacher. She hasn't handed in her work, again."

He heard Edgeworth's answering sigh on the other end. "Have you spoken to her yet?"

Phoenix shook his head, and then, realising Miles wasn't beside him, answered with a blunt 'no'. "I don't— I don't have any idea where she is right now."

"Hm, I do recall her mentioning she would be going with Apollo to investigate a crime scene."

"Oh yeah, that's right." He rubbed his temple. "D'you wanna sit down and talk with her tonight?"

"I think that'd be best." There was rustling on the other line. "I'm leaving work now. I'll be home shortly, Phoenix."

The attorney smiled. "I'll see you then."

The prosecutor mumbled a brief goodbye and Phoenix hung up, then placed the phone on the table and walked to the kitchenette to set up a plate of cookies.

Confrontations — if that's what you could call them — were never easy, he mused, as he ripped open a packet of ginger biscuits. And Trucy knew her way out of trouble; she was always full of _excuses_ — forgetfulness, an overload of magician tasks, and disorganisation resulting in the work itself apparently being lost.

Phoenix absentmindedly took one of the ginger biscuits and bit into it, spilling a few crumbs on the bench. Hearing that Trucy hadn't been doing as well as he expected was disappointing, to say the least.

The apartment was startlingly quiet — granted, with both Edgeworth and Trucy out, it was nowhere near as lively as usual — so the sound of keys turning in the lock caught Phoenix's attention almost straightaway.

"Welcome home!" he yelled out, a sound made muffled by his mouth full of biscuit.

He heard the soft thud of Edgeworth's briefcase being placed by their hat-rack as he finished off his biscuit. "Trucy's not home yet," he stated, as Edgeworth joined him in the kitchenette.

He leaned in quickly to press a welcoming kiss to Edgeworth's cheek, bits of ginger biscuit sticking to Edgeworth's face as he did so. "Phoenix," grumbled Edgeworth, brushing the stray crumbs away.

"How was your day?" Phoenix asked, as Edgeworth began filling up the kettle with water.

"Uneventful," Edgeworth replied. "And yours?"

Phoenix opened the tea canister with a pop. "No new clients. I tried to get the agency tidied up today."

"How did that go?"

"Not as well as I hoped. I still can't find that missing file."

Edgeworth nodded. Almost immediately afterwards, the apartment buzzer went off.

"They're back," Phoenix pointed out, quickly placing the plate of biscuits on the coffee table and rushing to open the door.

"Hi, Daddy!" exclaimed Trucy, leaping cheerfully into the apartment. She pressed a quick kiss to Phoenix's cheek, and then to Edgeworth's, followed with a bubbly "Hello, Uncle Miles!"

Apollo stood awkwardly in the doorway, leaning on the frame with his hands in his pockets.

"I should probably be off, Mr. Wright. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thanks, Apollo," Phoenix said, with a nod.

When the door was shut, Phoenix placed a hand on Trucy's shoulder, pulling her back. "Trucy. Uncle Miles and I wanna talk to you."

She whipped around quickly and stared at him with wide eyes. "S-sure!"

"Come on." He beckoned to the coffee table, almost relieved at the spark in Trucy's eyes as she noticed the biscuits. She leaned forth to grab one as she settled into the small armchair adjacent from the table.

Phoenix slumped into the couch and patted the space beside him, inviting Edgeworth to join him.

Trucy's eyes darted about — refusing to settle on either Phoenix or Edgeworth — and her free hand balled into a nervous fist, clenching tightly over her knees.

"We got a phone call from your English teacher today," Phoenix began, trying his best to keep eye contact with his daughter.

He heard Trucy gasp softly. "What… what did she say?" she asked, her voice meek.

"She said you haven't handed in your essay yet." Trucy frowned defensively, but Phoenix pressed on. "Trucy, this is the third call I've had from your teacher about you not handing your work in on time. What's going on?"

Trucy leaned forward, hands on her kneecaps. "I've been busy all week, Daddy, you know that!" she exclaimed. She shot Edgeworth a pleading look, eyes wide and blinking with determination.

Phoenix sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What have you been doing all week that's so important?"

"Polly needed help with his case!" Trucy retorted, almost immediately.

"Uhuh," Phoenix answered, doubtfully. "Look, Truce, you can't keep coming up with excuses. Last time you said that you didn't get your work done because you'd, uh, you'd spent your whole weekend with up with Pearl at Kurain?"

"There was no time for work!"

"Trucy, I've told you, until you turn eighteen you've got to focus on your studies," Phoenix said, sternly.

"But I get the work done eventually!" she whined. "What difference does it make if it's a little late?"

"You need to be organised. You know that."

She fiddled with her cape. "It's not _that_ important."

Phoenix creased his eyebrows. "I know it may not seem like it now, Truce, but you know, being a magician isn't just about doing tricks," he pointed out.

Trucy piped up almost immediately. "Yes it is, Daddy!" she proclaimed. "What do you—"

"What Phoe— your father means to say is," Edgeworth cut in, "that when you run your own magic troupe one day, you'll have to do more than just perform."

"What do you mean?" asked Trucy.

"Well, you'll have to arrange venues for your performances, which means you'll have to be organised if you want your plans to carry through."

Phoenix smiled.

"You'll have to fill out paperwork and book meetings, as well. Phoenix is correct in saying that being a magician isn't just about performing."

Trucy gave an abrupt nod. And Phoenix, who had left the explaining to his partner, watched with a soaring heart as Trucy finally understood why all this was as important as they made it out to be. He reached out for Edgeworth's hand and covered it in his own with a light squeeze.

Yet he was surprised to see Trucy retreating further into the couch, clutching her legs to her chest and letting out a sniffle.

"Trucy? What's wrong?" Edgeworth's eyes widened from behind his glasses.

She breathed in, and then huffed out a breath, sharply. In concern, Phoenix stood up hastily and went over to the girl, wrapping an arm around her.

"School is really, really hard," she whispered, muffling her face into her knees. "We get so much work, and it's no fun at all."

As Trucy tried to hold back bitter tears, Phoenix turned to Miles and they exchanged a knowing look. Though it had been many years ago, they too remembered times when simply getting work done on time was a painful struggle, when they wanted to throw the towel in and call quits.

"Trucy," Edgeworth began, striding over to his partner and their daughter. He started, and then paused, taking his time to choose his words with caution. "You are aware that, once you finish your studies, things won't be quite as stressful?"

She tilted her head, staring up at Miles.

Phoenix nodded. "It's only a few more years, Truce. And, y'know, if you're having trouble getting your work done on time, you can always ask us for help." He ruffled her hair. "We're always here to help you. Now, do you wanna start that essay tonight?"

Trucy seemed to calm, then. "O-Okay, Daddy. Uncle Miles. I'll go and get my books." She paused for a second, before nodding, sitting up from the chair and paddling off to her bedroom.

Edgeworth glanced over at Phoenix. "I think that went quite well," he said, softly.

Phoenix smiled. "Yeah. Yeah, I think so, too." He exhaled slowly. "She's a smart kid."

"Indeed." Edgeworth blushed. "Just like her father," he finished, looking at Phoenix with affection as he moved to link their hands.

Phoenix grinned bashfully. "Come on, you know she gets it from you," he teased.

"I've got my books!" Trucy announced, snapping the two men out of their thoughts.

Edgeworth smiled at their daughter. "Ready to start?"

She nodded. "I think so." As she plonked her books down on the table, she couldn't help but add a brief yet honest thank you to her two parents.

It had been a while since either Phoenix or Edgeworth had written a graded work — let alone an essay — but that detail was unimportant. Above all, they both wanted Trucy to know that if she ever needed help, all she had to do was ask.


End file.
